Ephemerally Everlasting

The Bill Has Been Presented

2012-01-31T16:52:00.003-05:00

"The truth about childhood is stored up in our body, and although we can repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated, our perceptions confused, and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill"

—Alice Miller, Author
For Your Own Good

Awake Chasing Ghosts

2011-09-21T04:39:00.014-04:00

‎"...Caleb Meyer, your ghost is gonna wear them rattlin' chains. But when I go to sleep at night, Don't you call my name..."

Gillian Welch's song Caleb Meyer is sponsoring my insomnia. Would that I were able to vanquish my ghosts with a simple imperative as she does. Instead, the ghosts in my past insist on whispering my name so I wrestle a while longer, captive to their desire to resurrect.

Do your ghosts haunt as mine? Surely I am not alone in my haunting.

I believe the impetus for their current presence is my impending fortieth birthday. I find taking stock of my life only strengthens chain's rattle. How I long for the dulcet tones of contentment and the peace of having given up my ghosts.

As a result of believing in the traditional two-parent household, a failed marriage and other failed romantic relationships, I do not have children. Time marches on and its footprints are ever present in the scars in my heart. I thought I would have a family of my own... it never occurred to me I would have to release this dream or that it would be so difficult. My attempts at exorcism have left me weary.

The benchmarks others have reached and the requisite milestones others seem to acquire and attain with grace have eluded me. The pithy statement "It's not you, it's me" is actually true this time as I am the only common denominator of my shortcomings. Ghosts of the "road not taken" are all around. "What if..." "Perhaps I should have..." "If I'd only said Yes instead of No...." "If I'd only said No instead of Yes..." It's an exhausting little game I do not recommend and yet I cannot stop myself from playing.

At this moment I cannot keep the tears from falling. I carry this darkened depression and these ghosts around as an Albatross when I long to be a Phoenix.

Restless

2011-05-18T14:39:00.000-04:00

From pretty to pain
love hung on a silver chain that lay at my breast.
Anchored to nowhere,
Yet tethered silver treading water.
Replacing old memories
with rust.
A drowning return to where I used to be
Peaceful, purgatory.

Woman I began and Woman I shall end.

2011-01-16T15:21:00.005-05:00

"...It is understood that some people refused to be pleased no matter what they are offered."

"...did not train me to acept the will of others over my own, but rather to re-create my will to match that of the one I serve."

"Joy is but a pretty word to describe an emotion that exists only to exacerbate despair."

"and I suppose knowledge of something should always lead to a lack of joy in it?"

"You never know what environment is going to cause a creature to thrive... and which is going to cause it to suffer."

"Sometimes we allow ourselves to focus with such intensity upon what we believe others think us to be we create ourselves in that image."

Additional quotes from a book I read... made me think... a lot. Been thinking a lot lately... a whole lot. Of course, tis not anything out of the ordinary for me to be consumed by my own thoughts. Perhaps one day they will lead me somewhere profitable.

Grief

2010-09-19T14:03:00.002-04:00

I am grieving. Wholeheartedly, lamenting my place. I am at a loss so great. I am body-shaking, non-breathing mess of tears.. I am aching from the tip of my toes to the hair on my head. I am forgetting to breathe.

My world seems to be crashing down around me and I feel adrift at the whims of the tide.

I am moving back in with my family in another state 1000 miles away from Charlotte, North Carolina which has been my home for the last 11 years. I do not know if I will return. I am injured and need to recuperate and as I am not allowed to drive or walk for the next four months... I need help.

I know that I don't have a choice and that is what is so hard in this... it is not my choice.

I am leaving all I have come to love and know.

I am leaving behind the place where I was once happy.

I am grieving.

Excerpts from Books

2010-06-19T17:52:00.002-04:00

When I read a book I turn down the corner of the right-hand page to mark my place. I also turn down the corner of the left-hand page to mark something I want to remember.

I decided to put these down here so they're more real. I often have difficulty expressing why I feel something or why I am on the quest I am on.. the quest of self discovery and the quest of change. A few of these quotes will sum it up nicely.

"...asked me why I wanted to bother thinking about the past. I wanted to remember the good things. It was like my life had begun for real that summer and everything I'd done since, every choice I'd made both for better and for worse, had been a result. Now my life was changing around me while I stood in the middle, wanting something without knowing what it was. I wanted to remember something good so I didn't have to think about the bad, so it didn't have the power to keep affecting me. So I didn't keep making choices based on feeling like whoever I trusted would eventually let me down, so I could stop feeling like I didn't deserve good things. So I could stop dreaming about drowning."

"Sometimes the picture someone else paints for us is a more accurate portrayal than a reflection. What we see in the mirror is always reversed. A portrait not only allows us to see our own faces, but how it look to others."

"There are few times when we know with absolute certainty we are going to do something for the last time. Life has a way of moving in circles, bringing us back to places we didn't expect and taking us away from those we do. There are too many times when we don't pay cloose enough attention, and moments are lost in our assumption we'll have another chance."

--Megan Hart, Tempted.

Life Lessons...

2010-03-30T01:44:00.002-04:00

Recently someone said to me they were sorry my marriage didn't work out. But that hopefully something good has come of it or will come of it. That sometimes we just don't know what the Lord has in store for us.

I don't know that I can say I'm sorry my marriage didn't work out... it's a very, very long and complicated story that cannot be explained in one or even five posts.

Did something good come of it?... Long, hard-learned life lessons came of it. I never fully understood the meaning of God's Grace until my divorce.

I learned to extend grace whenever I can. To be compassionate, empathetic, and and that even the most degenerate among us deserve to know love.

I have learned NEVER to judge another human for their actions because you cannot know their true motivations or their circumstances. That old saying about walking a mile in someone's shoes...

I learned that my temptations are not others temptations. And that even though I may be able to withstand the one thing that absolutely does you in...it doesn't mean I'm a better person than you are.

I learned it takes two people working toward the same goal to make a marriage work.

I learned that no matter how much you ask, plead, beg, pray... you cannot make someone do something they don't want to do.

I learned that when pushed against the wall, when pinned in a corner... you sometimes do things you never think you'd do just to keep your sanity and just to survive.

I learned sometimes it's no ones fault... both parties are to be share equally in the blame.

The most difficult lesson I learned is.... sometimes... love doesn't conquer all.

Love is terribly fragile.

Love is deep, strong and sturdy.

Love is the one thing that can heal and hurt at the same time.

Love can make the world a beautiful place

Love is both a decision and an emotion. The decision part is a lot easier to understand. The emotion part... crazy.

It took a little while... but I learned I still believe in love. Even after everything that I've been through... I still believe in love.

All those things... I learned. And, had I not been married and gone through a divorce I might never have learned those lessons.

I praise God, literally, I praise for the knowledge and the wisdom that came from those lessons.

And, I praise God that I am no longer in a relationship so toxic that it would have eventually killed every thing in me.

I suppose something good did come out of it... I still don't know what the Lord has in store for me. But I know I want to be His servant even though sometimes I fight tooth and nail against Him.

Living to fight another day...

2010-02-01T23:35:00.003-05:00

So, it's been a long time since I wrote... and I'm no more sure of things today than I was four years ago. And, I'm beginning to wonder if it's just time to move on.

I realize that a change of location doesn't change my situation but I'm so tired of fighting. I'm tired of getting up every day and trying to make myself believe that I'm OK. That I don't still hurt and I don't still long for a love that is but a memory.

I realize that it's over... I've moved on, he's moved on—he's married now. And, truthfully... I want him to be happy. We still move in some of the same circles, which at times is awkward because his new wife is not a fan of mine. She seems to be terribly uncomfortable with my presence. I met with her this summer, before they married, and tried to make peace. It didn't go so well. And, because she is married to someone I once loved... I wish her well.

I've also made peace with my ex-husband on a number of levels. We are now "facebook" friends. We've had several online chats and I think I might actually be able to see him on a social basis, on occasion. I've forgiven him for so many things. But, I've not entirely come to a place where I'm "all right" with my past.

As my Father said when he was here in December... North Carolina has not been good to me when it comes to love. I've had my heart broken twice. And, I just don't know that I can live through another heartbreak, in North Carolina or not. I'm so scared of falling in love again because I seriously don't know if I can live through pain like the last one.

The thing is... I don't want "Friend wit Benefits." I suppose it's a catch 22. There are still many unanswered questions and no closure in certain areas. And, I don't know that there ever will be. But, I am beginning to wonder... if it's just time to move on.

I hate the thought of leaving here with my tail between my legs but maybe it's time to quit this battle so I have the ability to fight again. I'm just tired of fighting. I don't know if this is a battle I'll ever win.

Happiness was...

2009-12-15T23:08:00.002-05:00

I was happy. I was content. I felt peace.

It's been almost two years since I've felt those emotions and felt that life had purpose and meaning. I've been in an emotionally intense depression for the last two years and I am beginning to wonder if this time in my life will ever end.

I have had moments of peace, moments of happiness and moments of contentment but those moments are fleeting and they are few and far between. I long to feel those things on a much more consistent basis.

I pray for peace, contentment and to be happy where I am, with the lack of direction with the lack of security and constant ambiguity. But I am not. I pray that God will see my heart and not hold my actions against me. I know I have to give up "me." And often, I am not willing to do that. So, I also pray to be willing, able and ready to surrender.

I want to be happy again. I want to feel free again, to feel as if there are better times ahead.

Selling yourself.... short.

2009-07-13T03:04:00.006-04:00

Some time ago I was asked by a potential suitor "what do you have to offer that sets you apart from other women?" I was completely caught off guard by this question as it's not one I've ever been asked before. I gave a rather flippant answer and didn't really think twice about it.

Well, lately... I'm thinking about it. And I'm beginning to wonder what does set me apart? What does make me different? Do our attributes really make or break a relationship or it all just about chemistry?

The things that I think set me apart and which are "pluses" in my favor are about 180 degrees opposite of an acquaintance and yet I'm single (divorced) and she's been married for 14 years.

I'm quite domestic and have a love for all things culinary. I enjoy "home" and want to make it a haven and a place where you feel loved, warm, relaxed etc. I don't mind doing laundry, or cleaning or any of those things.

She on the other hand does none of those things. Her husband does 90% of the cooking, he does all the laundry, and most of the cleaning. So, obviously to her husband the fact that she did/does none of those domestic things did not equate to "minuses" for her.

My ex-boyfriend and I were once at a dinner party with she and her husband and I had brought a homemade dessert. He asked my then-boyfriend if I cooked like this all the time. The answer was yes and he said..."you're so lucky." He told me that all of those domestic things were a large part of why he loved me.

But, my then-boyfriend is now married to someone who does not cook at all... and who is also not all that domestic either. Did he lie? Did those things really not matter or did he find someone with whom he has better chemistry and is simply willing deal with the fact that she does none of those things? I'm still a little puzzled by that one.

So, what are my best attributes and do they really matter? Are my pluses really pluses and are her minuses really minuses? What *do* I have to offer someone that really matters?

I don't know anymore what sets me apart because what I *thought* set me apart didn't really make a difference in the end.

I just know what I like about myself and hopefully those things will matter to the person who eventually becomes my companion, my lover and my best friend.

Memory is kind...

2009-05-01T15:01:00.004-04:00

How long will I be reminded of him? How long will I be acutely attuned to his laugh, his voice? How long will I remember his smell and the the comfort it brought?

How long will I be alone? More than anything I miss being held. I miss the feel of another heartbeat next to mine. I miss the inside jokes. I miss the smile at the end of the day.

My memory has—I am sure—painted roses where there were none.

Today I am feeling maudlin and reminiscing missing. In a few minutes I'll put these feelings in a box and hide them away. My tears will dry and I will get on with my day.

I don't know if you ever really get over someone you have loved with your whole heart. Perhaps you just move on.

Anger

2008-12-15T10:00:00.002-05:00

You are the negative beat
the syncopation, the reverberation
in my life.
The counterpoint misstep
I stumbled upon.

You are the foil, the reflector
of fractal dimension.
Now showing the transparency
of what I thought
was the truth.

You are the dissonance,
the sharp, the flat.
The incongruent
emphasizing
the mistake I mistook
for a harmony.

Depression

2008-12-04T15:16:00.002-05:00

The older I get the more difficult it becomes to regulate my depression. I'm in the worst place I've been in about four years.

I am in therapy. I've been seeing a counselor about three times a month since February and like all good therapy I've discovered many issues I repressed and tucked deep down inside of me.

I guess I have good days...but it's more like I have good moments. I have hours, maybe a whole day, of feeling normal. Then I have hours and days of feeling like something has overtaken my soul and is slowly killing me.

Sometimes I can string good moments together to last several days. But... even in the middle of that I have horrible crying jags and feeling of absolute and total worthlessness. Sometimes I can talk myself out of those or just get enough "oomph" together to tell myself to get over myself.

Lately though. It is just not possible to do that.

Three weeks ago I had a meltdown of major proportions. I had no idea ones eyelids could swell from so much crying. But, mine did. I cried so much and hurt so badly I could feel physical pain from it.

I don't know what it will take to get out of it. I know it's a chemical imbalance. I know I am triggering at an alarmingly high rate. I know that I have cried more in the last few months than, honestly, in the last few years. I don't know if the Cymbalta is working at all. I don't know how long it will last.

I only know that right now it has me in it's death grip and I am exhausted from trying to escape.

Not Yet...

2008-11-21T10:11:00.002-05:00

I chase ephemeral peace.
Malcontent
and vibrating in a void.
Where with vindictive strength
at absolute zero
shame found me.

With salted fingers
clenched in fists,
sitting on an empty stair
sorrow... found... me.

With dissonance and harmony
in erratic syncopation
anger found me.

With relentless dogma
and complete inadequacy
religiosity found me

My choice taken
hands tied.
In a dark corner of grief
new mourning came.

Photographs and Memories

2008-06-15T16:10:00.000-04:00

Jim Croce said it quite well...

Photographs and memories, Christmas cards you sent to me
All that I have are these to remember you
Memories that come at night take me to another time
Back to a happier day when I called you mine

But we sure had a good time
When we started way back when
Morning walks and bedroom talks
Oh how I loved you then

Summer skies and lullabies, nights we couldn't say good-bye
And of all of the things that we knew, not a dream survived
Photographs and memories, all the love you gave to me
Somehow it just can't be true that's all I've left of you

But we sure had a good time
When we started way back when
Morning walks and bedroom talks
Oh how I loved you then

Poem

2008-05-19T11:27:00.000-04:00

tumultuous anger
with rouged cheeks in painful bliss
temptation found me

sparkling with subversive intimacy
an undertow to a secret place
abandonment

greater things, undefined
in pursuit of emptiness
void of reward
yet to come

radiation restored

Mostly Good

2007-04-19T10:16:00.000-04:00

I'm mostly good. Well. Happy. Content.

Mostly.

I was a bridesmaid in my brother's wedding this past weekend in an afflent suburb of Houston, Texas. It was lovely. I am quite happy with his choice of bride, my new sister-in-law. I think they are a wonderful match.

I am overjoyed they are starting their new life together and at the same time overwhelmed with saddness. They have purchased a house and I got to tour it. It's freshly painted, and filled gifts and new furniture as well as furniture from my grandmother's home. It was when I saw her things in their new home that I began to cry. Fortunately, neither my brother or his then bride-to-be were around and they did not have to wittness my little breakdown. My father quietly handed me a hankercheif with which to dry my tears and then hugged me tightly.

I'm shocked at all the emotions swimming around just under the surface. I suppose I'm guilty of seeing the fin of the emotion and neglecting to recognize the shark waiting for the smell of blood. Also, I suppose still in denial.

I'm not good with grief. I don't mourn very well. I tend to box it up and put it on a shelf in the elaborate closet-like structure of my mind. Unlike most women, I don't know how to deal with my emotions. I'm often not sure what it is that I am feeling. The nuances tend to catch me off guard and thus I may stumble toward something or someone thinking that it is love when it is really just lust. Alternatively, I may label something lust when it has the potential to be oh-so-much-more.

There is a constant internal war going on between the need for security and independence. As this post reflects I'm all lover the place right now. I may try to clarify and refine at a later point but right now, in this moment, I need to get some things out.

My divorce became final in January. Five plus years of marriage boils down to a piece of paper. It's not even signed by the judge. It's been stamped with his name and initialed by his clerk.

I've been dating someone for a few months now. He's wonderful. He's younger than I am. By eight years. He's not even 30 yet. Yikes. Is it going somewhere? I have no idea. I do love him for who he is and for what he has given to me. He's restored my faith in relationships. He's easy to be with, peaceful, the calming influence in my life right now. He's shown me that I'm capable of opening my heart to someone again. I realized not too long ago that I've let him in and that's a bit scary for me. I thank God for him. He represents independence.

I met someone this weekend. There was quite a spark there. He lives far away from me and he is also in a relationship. Will anything ever come of it? I don't know if I want it to. There is nothing there but a spark and the idea of something different. He's very much like my family and he represents security.

I feel like I'm living in Robert Frost's poem....

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Only, unlike the author, I've not chosen my path. In reality I don't have to choose between one person and the other because it's not even an option. However, I feel as though, soon, I'll have to choose which path to take and I feel completely unprepared to make that decision. The pull for security is equally strong with the pull for independence.

Neverland

2006-11-28T09:44:00.000-05:00

I want to be a child again. I want to be where I'm secure, happy, and protected. I want to be insulated and sheltered from the harsh realities of the world. I'm tired of being an adult. I've managed to keep it together for a long time. Now that it is finally winding down I feel as if I'm on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

As of the 26th of October we were living apart for one year. On November 1 he finally signed the separation agreement I'd been carrying around in my car since July. At his request, I then returned my engagement ring. He said it was a symbol of his undying love and affection and since I was the one ending that love I didn't get to keep the ring. I didn't have the energy to argue.

On the 10th of November On the 14th of November he accepted service of papers for my intention of divorce and came to my attorney's office to sign them. On the 15th of December my attorney will file the paperwork with the State of North Carolina. Then it will go before a judge and I will be granted what my state calls an "absolute divorce." We don't even have to appear in court. The judge signing off on the papers is simply a formality.

Due to the holidays I'll likely still be married through the end of December and the beginning of January. I cannot renew my driver's license until I have my decree of divorce so that I can change my name. It expired on the 21st of October, my 35th birthday. Thus, I'm now considered a "high risk" flyer and every time I arrive at the airport I'm thoroughly searched. Joy. I also get the joy of having to file my taxes as married for yet another year.

I went home to Arkansas for Thanksgiving and it was wonderful. They are all lobbying for me to return home and make a life there. I just don't know if I can. I suppose on some fronts it would be much easier. On others, so much more difficult.

I just don't know that I'm strong enough to be the person I want to be under the pressure and all the things that would be expected of me there. I'm not just Ephemeral there. I'm so-and-so's daughter. I'm expected to behave a certain way, participate in certain things, have certain political and social views, and be very conservative. Compared to the rest of the world.... I'm conservative. Compared to my family?.... well, let's just say my brother continually calls me "the hippie."

Sometimes I feel like I don't fit in anywhere.

A Type of Mourning

2006-10-12T15:01:00.000-04:00

It’s the 12th of October and in 14 days it will be one year since my husband moved out. In 15 days I can file for a divorce.

My emotions are in turmoil but I’m not sure what I’m feeling at the moment. To say that I’m happy would not be true, but to say that I don’t want this divorce wouldn’t be true either. I suppose I’m somewhere in the middle of mourning.

I suppose all in all I feel relieved.

Falling

2006-08-29T16:56:00.000-04:00

A fragile thing, a precious thing
Onion-skin thin and gossamer winged
Always pins and needles, dandelion like
Falling asleep in the cold quiet dark,
Peace full. Awakened by
Warm sunshine of fear

July 14

2006-07-15T02:14:00.000-04:00

Today is my anniversary. 5 years married, 6.5 together.

I'll likely post a bit on this but I need some space around it in which to reflect. I've been on an overly-emotional roller coaster ride this week and I'm too close to things right now to have any perspective. I suppose its best to say I've spent this week mourning a dream.

Not all who wander are lost — J. R. R. Tolkien

2006-06-22T13:54:00.000-04:00

I'm just wandering, a bit lost on purpose, but still making my way, exploring, so please forgive the disjointed tone of this post.

I've been reading, a lot, for the last month and I suppose I use fiction a bit like other people use drugs. Books are an escape, even if only for the duration of 356 pages. My latest obsession is a series by Keith Ablow whose main character is a forensic psychiatrist, not unlike the author, Dr. Ablow. His obvious forte is the darker parts of the psyche.

I don't know why I'm so attracted to it other than to say I see something of myself in both the healer and in the tormented, twisted killers. I’ve always been fascinated by the mind and the ways in which it will protect itself. A lot like the main character of this book, I have a hard time not wanting to hear others stories if only to see what they endured and their subsequent life results both normal or not. There are many unknown, mitigating, and circumstantial factors with which we are bombarded and those elements shape us into who we are, not what we do, but who we are underneath the artifice of our jobs, and the persona we often let others view. Those hidden seeds, planted in early in life, often bear unrecognizable fruit. It is that fruit I want to examine first in me and subsequently in others.

I think the majority of individuals are capable of even the most vile and horrifying of acts when pushed to their limit. Put someone in a corner and they will come out fighting with wielding whatever weapon they have at their disposal or they will collapse. I want to know why one will fight and the other will not.

Research shows skin cancer usually manifests itself from a sun burn received early on in our childhood and the worse the burn, and the earlier the burn, the more likely your changes of developing melanoma. While the surface colors an array from salmon pink to lobster red the real damage is deep. And it stays deep. Well below the surface, the damaged cells can take years to mutate into a cancer which may very well take the life of its host. Then again, the damage may not mutate at all. Those changes may simply produce wrinkles and a few age spots, and while seen as aesthetically undesirable, they are hardly life-threatening.

I often wonder if our brain works in much the same way.

Within the last half-century we’ve progressed form a June Cleaver, Ozzie and Harriet view of the world where no one talked about the obvious elephant in the room to our present reality-television obsessed society where we not only discuss the elephant but parade him around in hopes someone will pay for us to be the next guest on Jerry Springer, Judge Judy, or any variety of show pandering to the lowest common denominator.

Why being mentally healthy has always been viewed as secondary to physical health I don’t know. I do know I am thankful we’ve come out of the “dark ages” where I’m perfectly comfortable telling someone I suffer from depression. Ever the inquisitor, I continually look for the answer to my depression to my ups and downs. Ever ephemeral, the answer continually eludes me. I’m questioning nature verses nurture which is both age old and, in my woefully-uneducated estimation, unanswerable.

Being in the middle of a separation and headed to divorce, I can attest to emotional wounds being more exhausting and taking much longer to heal than physical ones thus prompting the following questions and observations. The ability of the body to heal itself is nothing short of a miracle and children seem to bounce back from physical scrapes, cuts and burns much more quickly than do adults. With that in mind, those values are also superimposed onto emotional scrapes, cuts and burns.

We think children are too young to remember certain events or that because their minds are still in the developmental stages they’ll quickly forget and move on to whatever the newest and latest craze it. But, what if our brain takes those emotional scrapes and cuts, an emotional “sunburn,” from our childhood in whatever form it occurred—physical, emotional, verbal, sexual abuse or some other tragedy—and files it away. There, in the deep recess of our psyche, it sits and begins to mutate, transform. What happens then? Are the resulting depressions, psychoses, and violent manifestations a form of emotional cancer? Can a parallel be drawn between the severity of the emotional trauma and the depth of ones depravity? Or, due to nature—or nurture—are some people better equipped and the resulting neuroses the equivalent of an age spot or a wrinkle.

I know, right about now you’re probably wondering why I couldn’t post on the innocuous. I don’t know. It’s just not the way my brain works. Right now I’m trying to navigate through uncharted territory and keep the damage from turning into cancer. Writing about it is cathartic and, oddly enough, relaxing.

Tar Baby

2006-05-23T17:17:00.000-04:00

Don’t know why; just down. OK, that is not entirely true. I stopped taking my Zoloft, with any regularity, about six weeks ago and now my prescription has lapsed and I need to go back to the Doctor for a refill. In fact, I stopped taking most of my medication, except for the 800mgs of Ibuprofen about three times a day to stave off a migraine.

Why? I don’t know. I suppose I’m tired of being dependant on pills to regulate my mood, my blood pressure, my headaches, life. I suppose in a way it is self punishment. Deep down within side of me there’s a black mass, my tar baby, I can’t explain. In that mass are feelings that I deserve everything I’m going through. All this hurt, all this angst, pain, sorrow, anger, all of it. I deserve every last bit of it.

Not taking my medication is in some ways a physical manifestation of those emotions. I can deal with physical pain. Having had daily headaches for the last 19 years and Migraines for the last 10 years I’ve learned to cope, and push through, physical pain. As sick and twisted as it sounds, right now the physical pain reminds me that I’m alive but again, it’s also punishment.

High blood pressure (as a result of the years of stress) is also known as the Silent Killer. I know if left untreated it can do irreparable damage to body. In those deep, dark corners of my mind, I feel I deserve whatever havoc it wants to wreak.

I know, I know, I need years of therapy. I agree. I simply cannot afford it right now.

On the one hand, I’m ready to move on with my life and I’m feeling maudlin for the white picket fence, nostalgia for happily ever after. On the other hand, I don’t feel I deserve, or have the right to, happiness, peace, pleasure, security, love, or even health for that matter. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to actually leave him.

Again, I suppose I felt I deserved to stay in a toxic and dysfunctional relationship because I was raised with the idea of “You’ve made your bed, now you must lie in it.” The world of my family is very black and white; there are always clear and definitive paths. I don’t see the world that way; I never have. However, I’ve found it difficult to eschew the values assigned to my life and find the values which work for me—thus the dichotomy. I don’t blame my parents. In fact, they’ve been amazingly supportive and quite honestly, wanted me to leave before I ever did. They’ve mellowed with my circumstances. Their love is completely unconditional. Still, I feel I’m such a huge disappointment to them.

It’s exhausting to be at war with oneself.

I’ve been playing with these theories within my head for a while and this is the first time I’ve ever stated them. There’s a bit of a release even in the admission but I still feel like a tar baby in quicksand.

Acrimony for sale: $175.00

2006-05-15T17:09:00.000-04:00

An early morning phone call from my not-quite-erstwhile husband resulted in him letting me know he was not going to have enough to cover the Verizon bill. I've asked to separate the phones out, as they are in his name, and he keeps putting me off. (Background: we agreed I would continue to pay his car insurance as it's under my policy and he'd pay the cell phone bill. I still pay it every month.)

At the end of April (the 24th actually) I received a call from Verizon stating our bill was two months behind and I needed to pay $140 of a $315 balance in order to keep the phones from being turned off. Left with little choice, I paid it. I spoke with X and I of course said this was yet another example of his lack of responsibility. He said money was tight due to a variety of circumstances but that he would take care of the $175 balance before the next bill came due. And, in a Polly-Anna effort to see the positive, the good, and believe he'll prove me wrong; I trusted him to pay the bill.

Well, I'll bet you can guess what happened. He didn't pay the bill. And, it hurts all over again. I'll bet also you're shaking your head at my stupid naïveté.

Paying the bill will a bit of a strain on my finances this month but the pain, the hurt, the exhaustion, the saddness and the immense sorrow I feel aren't really about the money.

Insecure

2006-05-04T14:19:00.000-04:00

I’m feeling very insecure right now. I suppose this is a normal phase of the separation process but it is a phase I’m not comfortable with. I’m really questioning my attractiveness, not just physically, but as a whole, an individual. What do I have to offer? What is my worth? I know I’ve changed. Thus, am I significant in any way? Or am I simply part of a very dysfunctional—and now broken—unit.

It feels so very strange to be on such an emotional roller coaster. I’m not an overly-emotional woman. In fact, my husband always said I was the guy and he was the girl because I approach issues with logic and reason rather than feeling and emotions as he does. He would argue a point based on what he felt and then I would point out the flaws in his argument based on logic. The phrases “You’re issuing contradictory statements. It is one way or the other. You cannot have it both ways” were probably said by me about a thousand times. This did not endear me to him and I suppose his qualities did not endear him to me either.

I think, in my heart, I knew it was over when I no longer had the urge to argue. I lost my passion, the burning in my gut, the need for balance. I’m not saying those feelings were correct and I didn’t lose them in hopes of sparing his feelings, which would have been the right thing to do. I lost them because I lost my passion for life at all. I lost my desire to live; I lost the essence of me.

I’ve always been one who lives in the future like others live in the past. With me everything has always been about potential and possibility. Life is about taking the mess you’re in now and making something wonderful out of it. It’s about what I can do, could do, would be willing to do, and want to do. Those aspects of my personality are absolutely fundamental to my survival. I’ve got to believe there is a future to keep living today.

I find myself reaching for reassurance in ways I ought not. I am in new and most-uncomfortable territory making impulsive decisions based on what I feel right then and there rather than my normal, logical way. What sounds good when I’m in an emotional hurricane proves to be totally ephemeral. And like so much cotton candy, it has the illusion of volume and substance but is merely wispy, sugary fluff.

I thought twice about posting something so personal but since I decided to chronicle my feelings I thought I’d put it out there. For me, at least, the longer I keep something inside the less real it is. If I get it out on paper, or electronically for that matter, it becomes real. Maybe seeing it in black and white will enable me to face it head-first. Perhaps I’ll even be able to recognize and rearrange the destructive patterns in my life.

About a year ago my grandmother passed away. Her death gave pause for a lot of introspection. Not too long after the funeral and into the mourning process I spent one afternoon trying to envision my future. What did it look like? Where were we headed? What potential was there for us? I broke down when I realized I could not see anything at all. There was nothing there but a void, a black hole, if you will. While the situation is different now and I’m beginning to see the possibility of a future I’m still in a very sad place because embracing the promise of a future means letting completely go of the past and that is much, much more difficult than I ever thought it would be.

Recounting: Part Deux

2006-05-01T13:05:00.000-04:00

Sunday, April 2

I hadn’t seen him since we met for a non-romantic dinner on Valentine’s Day. He called but I told him I needed space in a major way. He semi-respected that.

I’d given the counseling idea a lot of thought and decided I do not want to continue couple’s counseling at this point and I need to let him know. So, I called him and asked to dinner at the Chili’s right next to his workplace. I meet him in the parking lot and we walk to the restaurant. It’s awkward.

During the course of dinner I tell him I don’t want to go back to counseling. I realize he’s hurting very badly right now and while I’m not playing “tit for tat” I’m hurting too, and he has hurt me a lot in the last few years. He says he’s never heard of a marriage breaking up over money. (Interesting since money is the cause for a lot of break-ups.) I told him it was not the actual dollars and cents but the attitude of operating independently. “If we’re supposed to be a team then we make decisions as a team.” I shared my feelings: “You operated independent of me and without regard for how your decisions would affect me or even us as a couple. You didn’t consult me or think about what was best of us and our future. You simply did what you wanted, acting selfishly, wanting to fulfill your own needs and wants.”

For example: In February of 04 he quite making his auto payments and by July/August of 04 his truck was about to be repossessed. So, he decided to sell it. He owed about 18 K (because he was upside down on the original loan) and he sold it for about 12 K. The bank said they would just lower his monthly payments so he could pay the rest over the course of the original loan. Then in December 04 I discovered he didn’t make a single additional payment on the loan. I, of course, didn’t think it was necessary to ask him if he was making his payments every month. I just trusted he was being responsible— silly me. We had separate bank accounts (even different banks) his choice, not mine.

In the meantime he’s driving his grandfather’s car which he received from the estate after his death. It’s a good car, very old, but needs work. At one point in time he thought it was going to permanently die and was desperate for a vehicle. He tried to buy his own car but because of his credit and having an auto loan that was charged off he couldn’t get financing at all. So, he asked me to finance a car for him back in February of 05. I declined.

As you can imagine, it didn’t go over well—at all. I knew that I would be the one responsible for it if he couldn’t make the payments and it would be my neck on the chopping block. I couldn’t take that chance. He then basically accused me of not loving him as much as he loved me because if the tables were turned he’d do it for me in a heartbeat. I told him to ask his Dad or his Mom (they’re divorced) and he said he had too much pride to admit to his Father the situation he’d gotten himself into.

For me, it is more the principle of the matter than the actual outcome. He chose to put himself first and me second, time and time and time again. I got tired of being his second choice. I said “You hurt me very badly by choosing everything over me and I don’t know how long, if ever, it will take me to get over that hurt.”

“The bottom line is, I don’t trust you. I don’t trust you to take care of me; I don’t trust you to put the needs of our family (while it’s only the two of us) first. I don’t trust you to look for the “greater good” rather than what you want. And right now I’ve got to take care of me. No one else is going to do that and I don’t trust you to do it.”

I cried, he cried. He said he missed me so much, I was his life, his rock, everything to him. He said he missed everything about me, everything about our life together. I said: “I know this will hurt you but I don’t. I miss what our life could have been, I miss what I wanted our life to be, but I do not miss what it actually was. I’m sorry but I just don’t miss what we actually had together.”

I cried all the way home. I mourned what I wanted out of my marriage, and in a way I’m still mourning the loss of what once had such great potential. I cried because I so wanted him to prove to me he could change and we could be happy. I cried because I wanted a family, and a home, and a loving and nurturing environment. I cried because although I am very independent, I’d like someone to take care of me for a little bit. I’d like to just give it all up for a while and let someone else be in charge and know in doing so they will have my best interest at the forefront. I cried because I was looking at 35 and a waning biological clock and the knowledge that I may not ever have children. I cried for the love not being enough to sustain.

In theory: I know his problems are not my fault; I know his irresponsibility is not of my doing. But somewhere deep down inside me there’s the feeling that if I’d been a little better, nicer, kinder, if I’d done a little more, paid more attention, organized more efficiently, life might be different. And, if he truly loved me he would have taken responsibility. If I were truly loveable he’d have done it. It must be me. I guess I'm just not worth it.

I cried. I cried. And then I cried some more.

Untitled

2006-04-27T10:08:00.000-04:00

And, still a work in progress but I'm posting it anyway. I'm not sure about the last few lines so I reserve the right to edit.

Please.
Just take me there.

Take me away from all the pain
In altered states on streets of Main
While walking toward your corridor
Circuitous path on a dirty floor
Leads me on, your gritty truth
Clarified in fisheye, loupe

Please.
Just take me there.

A bottle of wine, Blood from my vein
Salty tears, from pleasure gained
In a haze of red, there’s a bruise of blue
And black is the color of my coffee.
Yes black is the color of my coffee.

Please.
Just take me there.

Please.
Just take me there.

Please.

Finished

2006-04-24T18:31:00.000-04:00

Once and for all, I told him I'm finished today. It's the hardest thing I've ever done and this is the most pain I've ever felt in my entire life.

Recounting: Part I

2006-04-24T15:26:00.000-04:00

Late January/Early February

We go to a couple’s counseling session where P basically admits he needs to make major changes in his life to be the both the man I need him to be as well as the man he wants to be. He says he thinks the separation was a good thing in the sense that it made him realize the he has a lot of growing up to do.

He discovered he is a slob, an absolute slob. BUT, it took him living with someone who is a bigger slob than he is to realize he has the exact same habits. He never realized it until suddenly there was no one to pick up after him and his roommate (Monica) makes as much a mess of things as he does.

He admits to being a little serious about his personal motto “Live each day as if it were your last” Having lived with him, I agree. He did not plan for the future at all because it never occurred to him to do so.

I tell the therapist the “if we’d had sex more often I could have managed to pay the bills on time and clean the house” story. He says he’s now aware that was not the best thing to say or do but he still stands by it.

Then, I ask for a few moments alone with our counselor. He leaves and goes to the lobby. The therapist and I both come to the following conclusion: His emotional maturity level is that of a 15-year-old boy.

He has not matured pas the point where you work for the reward at the end and not simply because it’s the right thing to do. Work is something he gets “paid” to do. He doesn’t sense the urgency or see the necessity to maintain anything outside of his employment. Because at his job they pay him to work and thus the financial aspect is his reward. At home, he doesn’t get paid to do the laundry, or empty the dishwasher, or clean the cat litter. So, instead of financial rewards, he expects sex when he does something around the house and since I wasn’t “rewarding” him as much as he thought I should be, he didn’t see the benefit of doing the right thing.

Sigh. I am married to a 32-year-old child. He’s a kind, loving, big-hearted, tender 32-year-old child, but a child none the less. Sigh.

The counselor then says he will continue to see us if I want to continue but I’m the one that needs to decide whether or not I want to continue. If I do want to continue, what do I hope to get out of it?

At the end of the session I am undecided.

Prodigal Blogger

2006-04-24T10:28:00.000-04:00

OK, so I’ve been living under the radar for a while and thus a lot has transpired since last I spoke.

I have started to post several times but have stopped mid-stream simply because I find I am exhausted even thinking about everything.

I also want to make sure I give the back story as well relay the events so it may take a while to finish these posts and I also think it will be easier if I post by date so the recounting will be chronological.

However (PB), know that I am working on them and will have them up as soon as they are finished. Thank you for your continued support and caring.

White Space

2006-03-15T11:00:00.000-05:00

Your reality is consistent
In the white space of my mind.
In images, things are different,
Transformed over time.

Somehow you manipulate,
Turn them back around.
Inside out and upside down,
Inverted, they confound.

Performing acrobatics,
Appeasing your desire.
Quashing qualms, effort less
Scorched by white-hot fire.

Restless Heart

2006-03-07T11:56:00.000-05:00

I’m anxious. I’m fidgety. I’m frustrated. I’m restless. I cannot concentrate longer than about a minute on anything and I’m all over the map with my emotions and thoughts. I feel like I should be doing something but I don’t know what. All I know is I don’t have any calm right now.

Compared to the roller coaster that was my life just six months ago I now traverse an amazingly calm path but I suppose that roller coaster has had yet another negative effect as well. It took all my energy to get through life and the day today that I’ve forgotten how to live I guess.

I’m not making any sense. Let’s start over.

I think we adapt to our circumstances in order to survive. I adapted to never knowing what might happen next, to always being on edge, to living under tremendous pressure for the last almost three years. Then, I made the decision to leave and one day later I was rear-ended by an 18-wheeler. Add the stress of being without a vehicle to everything else and life was just crazy. But, I made it through the initial separation, the packing, the moving, getting settled, the holidays, and finally establishing somewhat of a routine and now that I’ve got my life calmed down I don’t know what to do. I was/am so used to living under pressure I now don’t know what do and so I’m constantly moving, if only internally.

I don’t know how to do calm and peaceful.

I’ve never been one to easily relax but this seems a bit extreme even for me. I feel guilty if I sit down to watch TV and I’m not doing anything. I feel guilty because I should be enjoying my freedom and being creative and I cannot. I feel like I should be drawing, painting, creating a collage or a watercolor or pastel or a cake, or dinner from scratch, or sewing, or writing or, or, or, the list just goes on. I’ve had to worry about everything for so long and now I don’t have to.

I keep wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. What big problem is just around the corner? When is all hell going to break loose? I could use about a month of doctor-sanctioned mental health vacation.

I want to get my “joie de vive” back.

What Now?

2006-03-06T10:36:00.000-05:00

I received a late-night call from the Husband earlier this week. It started out pretty innocent but quickly turned into a lot of crying and feeling overly emotional. He was saying how he missed me and how he wanted to work on our relationship. He then asked me this question: “How are we supposed to work on our relationship when you don’t want to see me?” I didn’t answer; I couldn’t. I just remained silent and he then said I didn’t have to answer right away.

The thing I cannot bring myself to tell him is that I don’t want to.

2006-02-21T17:43:00.000-05:00

God. Are you listening?
Jesus Christ.
Are you there?
You say.
I confess,
And give you all my burdens,
Will you bear?

Fleeced before, you,
Now may the ground be
Wet. With tears,
Sorrow, pain,
For promises not kept.

Streets of gold and
Pearls before.
Swine, sow’s ear, silk purse.
Wash away.
All my sin, white as snow.
Immerse.

2006-02-16T13:01:00.000-05:00

I feel totally empty right now. I'm exhausted and tired and it will likely go on for another 9 months. I am continually amazed at how physically exhausting emotional issues are. I want to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep until next Christmas. Then maybe I'd be ready for something, anything.

We had a counseling session last week, and he has made some progress. He said the separation was probably a good thing because it made him realize he needed to make some changes. He also admitted to being a slob. However, it took living with someone who is more of a slob than he is before he realized how bad he was/is. That hurt, just like everything else hurts too.

I brought up the "if we'd had sex more often, I'd have been able to keep the house clean" discussion. The Doc said how interesting that it appears he was only willing to "behave" if he were to be rewarded. His behavior had to be rewarded or he wasn't willing to put forth the effort to do the right thing.

I spent the last 15 minutes alone with the therapist and he asked me how old I thought my husband was, emotionally speaking that is. I said, I think he's about 15. Doc agreed because 15-year-olds are still under the impression they must be rewarded for their good behavior. Interesting, no?

I realize I'm in limbo and total transition. I feel like I'm walking in the ocean and the tide is just beginning to pull. Life feels thick, like sludge and I'm having a hard time making sense of what is around me. My memory is shot as well. I cannot remember what I did last night or what I had for lunch yesterday. I have to sit and think about something as simple as what I had for lunch or even if I had lunch. Sad.

I'm missing. What you ask? Me. I'm missing me.

Reality Check

2006-01-05T10:43:00.000-05:00

My holidays were spent wonderfully in the company of my family both in North Carolina and in my home state. I had 11 glorious days away from the real world and in a nice warm and cozy cocoon. Unfortunately, that came to an end on Tuesday when I had to come be back at work. It’s not too bad however, I really enjoy my job and I am glad to have a little bit of privacy again. Ohh, that and being back in my own bed—bliss at last.

Before my family arrived I agreed to have lunch with the Husband. We discussed it on Friday the week before Christmas that we would meet on the 19th which was the following Wednesday at the Chili’s close to his work. I had purchased several DVDs and the 3rd season of Family Guy for him and I had made “goodies” for his mom and step-dad. So, he calls me on Wednesday morning and asks if we can meet at Sonic instead. This should have been my first clue.

Now, he knows I’m not a huge fan of fast-food, which he admittedly could eat 6 days out of 7 and this is supposed to be our Christmas lunch since I won’t be spending the holiday with him. I declined. He then stumbled a bit and said we would have to go Dutch if we ate anywhere else. I asked if he had not gotten paid the week before and he said he had but that he had spent all his money on Christmas presents. But, he didn’t get mine yet. He’d have to wait to buy mine until he got his commission check. I reluctantly agreed to meet him at another restaurant, also close to where he works and go Dutch.

So, I arrive at the restaurant and it’s uncomfortable but we make it through lunch OK. I see him fumbling in his wallet, looking like he doesn’t have enough cash, (he only has about $20 to last him until his next paycheck) so I offer to pick up the tab for lunch. He is thankful and all I can think of at that moment is how we’ve now been living apart for almost two months and I’m still paying for everything.

He still doesn’t have the ability to plan in advance. I’m not angry that I had to fork over the money for lunch, no pun intended. It’s just that if this is his way of trying to “win me back” believe me it’s not working. He has failed to show me that he can take charge of a situation and be in control of anything except his job. He does so well there he’s been awarded a promotion. While this just reinforces my decision to leave it also reinforces the idea that “I’m just not worth it.” I am not worth him even planning in advance enough to pick up an extra $10 for lunch.

Anguish

2006-01-04T10:54:00.000-05:00

What does it matter if I die today.
I die a little more each day,
each day I'm with you anyway.

So Push the knife a little deeper
Make me bleed a little more
Watch my life slowly seep to the floor

One drop a day; one push away
Thinking you would change
If I let you have your way

But you did not.

Away

2006-01-03T14:06:00.000-05:00

Well, I've been away for the Holiday season and am just now returnning. I have a lot I'd like to work out and will most likely do it here. Please be patient with me.

Fodder

2005-12-01T11:59:00.000-05:00

I remember soft eyes
Innocent view
Naiveté green
Now blue

I remember smooth skin
Tender to touch
Weathered and angled
Exposed too much

You ripped me
You cut me
You left me undone

Roughened and raw
You calloused my heart

Debased me
Abused me
Debauched me
You won

With the tips of your fingers
Toughened and hard

I resigned my design
To a grave in my future
I exorcised you and yet
You still linger

Stupefied

2005-12-01T09:58:00.000-05:00

A couple of nights ago I spent about an hour on the phone with the Husband and to make a long story short we discussed a lot of "my" problems with him. Among the things we discussed were his inability to keep anything clean picked-up. Now I'm not saying that things were a little bit dirty I'm saying there were over 20 separate burns in the carpet upstairs from his cigarettes. I’m saying there was at least a quarter inch of cigarette ash on every horizontal surface and a few vertical ones.

I'm saying there were plates and dishes and forks and knives and cups and glasses all with varying stages of stickiness because he couldn't be bothered to take them downstairs; I'm saying there were piles upon piles of trash next to the recliner and the computer desk and the excuse he gave me for letting the trash (which was disgusting) pile up is that there wasn't a trash can near by and he simply never remembered to throw his trash away EVER.

So, the conversation went something like this:

Me: “Hub, I tried everything I knew how to do and all the suggestions you gave me to help you to remember to pick up and clean. I was your Mother reminding you how to be an adult all the time.”

Hub: “You took the role of Mother upon yourself I needed a Lover not a Mother.”

Me: “Well, when you have two people in a relationship and one refuses to take any responsibility it puts the other one in the position of holding ALL the responsibility - thus making me your Mother and I don't have a Mom to Lover switch. I can't make that transition on a dime. Why do you think I quit going upstairs? It was disgusting. By not cleaning and etc you said to me I'm not worth it. You put me second to your trash, again and again, and again. You put me second to your smoking, your pot, everything –for years not just a month or two. I tried everything I knew how to do and all of your suggestions too to try and help you be different.”

Hub: “You didn't try the one thing I've talked about all night.”

Me: “What's that?”

Hub: “You know, what we've been discussing, my needs.”

Me: “No, I don't know. What is it?”

Hub: “Sex.”

Me: (dumfounded) “What?”

Hub: “Sex. Sexual intimacy. You're fantastic in bed I don't know why you didn't want to have
sex more often.”

Me: “So you're telling me that you having sex with me would help you change the cat litter, clean the toilet, not let ashes get all over the furniture upstairs, etc? Having sex with me helps you pick up your dirty clothes?”

Hub: “Having sex with you makes me a different person. It would make me want to be different.”

Wow. I mean… wow. What else can I say? Who knew I had that kind of power? Moreover, who knew sex with me is a life-changing experience?

UGGHHHHH!!!!!!! SCREAMING!!!!!!! SCREAMING VERY LOUDLY!!!!

Consider The Sources (yes, this really happened)

2005-12-01T09:37:00.000-05:00

One

Said to my Father by one of the men working for the moving company

“Yo, gonna be some gran’babies runnin’ round’ unhappy missin’ this Play Station cord.”

Two

Said to me by one of the other men working for the moving company while handing me another stray piece of equipment belonging this time to an X-Box

Him: “Your daughter play them games?”
Me: “I don’t have a daughter.”
Him: “Oh then your son?”
Me: (knowing where this is going, smiling) “No, I don’t have any children.”
Him: (with a quizzical look on his face) “Well, who plays them games?”
Me: “My husband.”
Him: (obviously trying to back peddle) “Ohh, … well, man…. that’s cool; that’s cool, ya know.”

Meltdown

2005-11-28T12:28:00.000-05:00

I was just putting the last pair of shoes into their little cubby in my closet when it hit me there was no room for him. I’ve been viewing this move and separation as a chance for us to work on issues and in once sense I still do. I want to give him a chance to change I just don’t think he can.
I went into the second bedroom where my mom was sewing curtains and I sat down on the bed and just started crying. More than likely, my marriage is over. I keep waiting for him to step up to the plate and take responsibility, or, be a man and it just doesn’t happen. He is in denial in a sense but he’s simply showing me, and my parents for that matter, that he cannot “suck it up” and put what he wants to do aside for the greater good of our relationship.

If this were aberrant behavior I would not be so upset but this behavior has gone on for the past three-and-a-half years. I feel I need to chronicle the things that have happened but right now I don’t have the time to do so. Future posts may reflect his behavior and my near-total collapse into depression because I don’t want to forget what I went through just because I still love him. Love is not enough and he doesn’t understand that. My life has come full circle back around to being alone and on my own again.

I am 34 years old and feel just like I did when I was 24 and my parents helped me move into an apartment in Fort Worth, Texas. My Mom stayed and helped me decorate just like she did this week. It was quite odd being in such a state again only 10 years older. By this stage in my life I wanted a husband, friends, children, a dog or two, a home of my own, and a semi-settled life. It’s like I drew the picture in the sand on the shore and little by little the ocean eroded away the image until nothing was left of my dream. I thought when I said “I do” I was on my way to that life.

Oddly enough I had more of that life when I was single than after being married. When I was single I never lacked friends with whom I could go to dinner, movies, plays, concerts, theater, museums, etc. After I got married I went more places alone than with him. I wanted these experiences to be shared, to build memories with someone. Instead I was alone most of the time.

There are still 11 months before we can discuss a divorce and while I’m hoping we can work things out I’ve very little faith that they can be. He still doesn’t understand what I want even though I’ve spelled it out for him quite clearly.

In once sense I’m more upset that a marriage has ended than I am at losing my husband. I ache for the potential I see and the idea that I’ll be 35 years old, single, no children, and divorced. I never wanted to be “that woman” and I am fast on my way to becoming her.

Amazing Family

2005-11-28T10:41:00.000-05:00

Well, I am moved. My Mom and Dad arrived on the Friday (before Thanksgiving) and we made small trips back and forth (about 20 miles or so) with boxes and small furniture objects all weekend long. Then the “movers” arrived on Monday (the only day it has rained in the month of November) and packed all the large items including the sleigh bed, dresser, chest of drawers, etc. as well as the second bedroom suit.

The Husband did not pack a single thing. My Mom, Dad and I packed all of his stuff and moved it into the garage and they also generously paid to have his living room and den furniture moved into his new place. It’s a week later and he still has to get his stuff out of the garage and bedroom closet before I can turn the keys into the landlord. The move was tiring and exhausting but we’re finished. My new apartment is coming together nicely too. Mom made curtains for the living and dining areas and both bedrooms. I’ll try and get some photos soon. Dad put up shelving in the pantry area and hung the rods for all the curtains and a lot of other general stuff. He was so cute with his three-day beard, scruffy hair, plaid flannel shirt and all of his tools spread out and trying to find just the right bit for his drill.

After getting all of my things out of the house Mom, Dad and I went through and cleaned everything from top to bottom. I cannot believe they were willing to clean up his messes but they were. We vacuumed, dusted, cleaned toilets and bathrooms. We also cleaned up the computer room and its disgusting mess. I am continually amazed at the loving kindness my parents have shown. They are examples to be followed and should I ever be so blessed to have children I would like to think I would follow in their footsteps.

"Single" Again

2005-11-18T11:05:00.000-05:00

Well, today is the day I officially sign the lease and become “single” again. I’ll still be married for another 11 months, at the least, but I’ll be living alone. My parents will arrive early this afternoon and we’ll begin moving the small boxes tonight.

We will be moving all of the “small stuff” and movers will be here on Monday to take care of the furniture and other large items. I’ve purchased a tailored couch, chair, and ottoman for the living/den area as well as a new duvet cover, quilt, and pillow shams for my sleigh bed. He is basically taking what he brought into the marriage and I am taking what I brought into it. As far as wedding gifts go, well, he said he doesn’t want any of the china, crystal, or other gifts. We received about at least 200 gifts and I’d say that 185 of them were from my parent’s friends. I guess he figures he’d never need 12 place settings of Lenox Eternal Gold, or 12 Gorham Lady Anne crystal iced-beverage glasses. I don’t suppose he needs four place settings of Reed and Barton Francis I sterling silver either. In four and a half years we’ve only eaten on our china like twice and we’ve never eaten with our silver service.

I wanted the traditional wedding along with the traditional gifts. I wanted a somewhat-traditional life. I thought he did too. I got the wedding and the gifts but certainly not the life. It’s been hard to box up everything knowing it means the dissolution of a relationship. At the same time it’s been wonderful knowing I can start over and reclaim what I know to be true. I feel so guilty yet relieved at the same time. Then, I feel guilty for feeling relieved.

Talked to the Husband last night and it seems he will not be able to make it back up to pack so yours truly is going to be packing everything for him. This is just a repeat of 3 years ago when I packed everything we moved into where I am now. As I have been doing for about a year and a half now I just agreed and said I’d pack for him. You cannot argue with someone whose only answer to your questions is “I’m sorry and I’ll try to do better.” Since I’m the only one who would get upset or angry about things I decided to just give in and let him do what he wanted to do because I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. I just couldn’t do it because I was the only one being hurt. Same with the moving. My father has been generous in paying for the Husband’s heavy items to be moved to where he is living now and the Hub will not have to pay him back either.

I am so tired and I need a break or I’m liable to need an abundance of Xanex as well as a padded cell. I don’t know if/when I’ll have time to post again over the next week or so but I’m sure I’ll have plenty of stories to tell when I get back. Wish me luck.

Moving

2005-11-16T17:04:00.000-05:00

My friend T is coming over tonight to help me finish packing. I’m eternally grateful. I’ll pick up a pizza at this wonderful place owned and run by what appears to be the cast of the Sopranos.

The Husband came on Monday and got his computer equipment, the rest of his guitars and the cats. He did not get any of the 25 or so boxes I had packed for him and put in the garage. When asked if would be making a 2nd trip he said “no” because he wouldn’t have enough money. His expenses have been cut in half and he still cannot manage to budget. I know he had to spend some money on his car but not his whole paycheck. Just thinking about it makes me tired.

My house/life is just as chaotic as it can be and my goal is to get out of that house. My focus is pretty set on that. I feel like it's T minus 10 and counting... I've got 5 days left to sleep there and I just know there'll be fireworks and a huge party the first night I spend in my new place. Leaving the town home is the milestone to moving on with my life. I feel as long as I am still there I'll still be that person but if I can be somewhere else I can get "me" back and I'm almost scared who I was is gone for good. II know who I am now and there's an awful lot I don't like about me. I guess today everything hit me and I'm just in anxiety/panic/stress mode.

My mom called today just to tell me how proud of me she was for taking these steps and making this move. She said she would have probably crumbled a long time ago and she admired how strong I was. It's ironic or divinely coincidental because today of all days I feel like I'm just about to crack. I feel so tightly wound that I don't know if I'll ever relax. I need a massage, a beach, and a pitcher or two of margaritas. And I don't see any time in the near future where I can have that total relaxation. I'm just so tired I think I could sleep for a week and it's not just the physical tiredness. I'm so tired of dealing with his BS. We talked again last night and he went on and on about how he missed me and etc. etc. etc how he doesn't want to be in the house because there'll be too many memories and he's all emotional and how he doesn't want me to see him like this. He doesn't understand STILL that he's the reason I'm doing this. He pushed me away a little bit each day for 2.5 years and I finally had enough.

There is a part of me that still feels sympathy for him and I know it is faulty thinking but I just keep wondering if it was me somehow. I wasn't a good enough wife, maybe if I'd done a little more, folded his laundry without asking him to help, cleaned the whole house without asking for help, nagged him about the financial end of thing. I know it is not my job to be his mother or his keeper but I still feel like a failure. I know no relationship is perfect and I don't think I have unrealistic expectations anymore. I just want to be in a relationship with someone where we are both pulling in the same direction rather than opposite ones.

Is that so wrong? Is it wrong to want that Norman-Rockwell, Eddie-Bauer, L.L.-Bean Pottery-Barn catalog kind of life? I want those warm, rich scenes with friends and family and everyone is smiling. I want the atmosphere to full of love and acceptance. I want great food cooking in the kitchen and a nice filet on the grill, a glass of wine and people with whom I want to talk all night. And, at the end of the night after everyone leaves I want to turn to my Husband, look into his eyes, not have to say a word but let the dishes wait until the morning and know the only place I ever want to be is in his arms.

I want his arms to mean Home to me. To mean Safety. To mean Security. To mean Unconditional Love. To mean Trust. To mean Lust. To know that no one other than my Dad will ever love me as much as he does. I want to know I can give over everything of me and he will treasure me and not take me for granted. I want his arms to mean Teamwork. His hands to pick me up when I fall. I want his fingers to wipe away my tears. I want a mature Man. I don’t want to be his Mother…. I want to be his Lover. I want to know his hands can bring me pleasure. I want passionate kissing, I want to know we can raise that fire in one another and the bond we create wile doing so is part of the glue that holds us together.

I want that act to be something more than just f*ucking—not that that is a bad thing. But in addition to fast and furious, I want to make love. It hurts to say but in all my marriage I’ve only made love once. Every other time we’ve ever been together has just been physical.

I guess if you’re reading this I’m sounding like a profound romantic. Well, I am. I want Bliss. I guess I just need to find someone who wants the same thing…. AND is willing to work together in order achieve it. I have no doubt that it will be hard work but I want to be able to enjoy the ride not just the destination.

Disgust

2005-11-04T16:07:00.000-05:00

I’m running on energy reserves I didn’t know I had. Monday evening I told the Husband I was moving out. It was not well received and he’s quite unhappy with me at the moment. He had asked me for a month “trial” separation, which I knew wasn’t going to work from the very beginning so now he’s angry I didn’t even give it a week. I guess he doesn’t remember me telling him a month wasn’t enough time to work through things.

So, on Thursday I called the landlord, who is also a friend, and told her we would not be renewing the lease. A couple of hours later she called me back and wants to come see the town home tonight at 7pm so she can assess what will need to be done to prepare for new tenants. I panicked a bit since I’ve been in packing mode and not cleaning mode but told her to come on up. I then called the Husband and asked him if he would/could come and help me clean. He declined saying he would be too emotional to get any actual cleaning accomplished. I would say I got angry but I don’t get angry anymore. That emotion just isn’t there where he is concerned. However, that being said I feel the need to vent about the “State of the Upstairs of My House.”

First however, I’ll impart some background info on the Husband and his standards for cleanliness. Let’s just say they are radically different from mine. For the last three years we’ve lived the “upstairs-downstairs” way. Other than sleeping downstairs in the master bedroom with me (which he only does if he doesn’t fall a sleep playing PS2 or watching TV) he lives upstairs. I watch TV in the bedroom. The Husband smokes cigarettes and “herb” in our house. I do not smoke anything and I detest cigarette smoke so he smokes in the upstairs part of our town home. I stay downstairs because I just can’t abide being around it and he refuses to go outside just to smoke a cigarette.

He is also the keeper of the litter box. This is the ONLY chore we do not share. This is his job and his alone. Everything else, I do most of and he does occasionally. We even have the “Litter Maid” litter box for multiple cats (we have two) and he cannot manage to empty the little carton with any kind of regularity.

One of the last times I went upstairs I noticed several burn holes in the carpet. Again, I didn’t get angry just resigned that yet again I’ll be the one who cleans up his mess. So, I knew to get the upstairs presentable for my landlord I’ve have to take care of the litter problem as well as the cigarette burns. I went to three Home Depot’s and one Lowe’s looking for duck-bill angled carpet scissors so I could cut out the burned fibers in the carpet so it would appear at the least a little more presentable.

I get home about 8pm and proceed to start cleaning. This is what I find:

4 or 5 empty, or near-empty plastic cups.
Several knives, forks and other utensils (Reed and Barton Stainless in Crescendo at $40 a place setting)
2 semi-empty beer cans
1 ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts
Approximately 8 empty packs of Marlboro Extra Lights with the cellophane wrappers in 8 additional places
1 plastic 32oz cup from a fast-food restaurant half-filled with cigarette ashes and cigarette butts
3 paper plates
2 pair of fingernail clippers
1 pair of toenail clippers
2 pair of tweezers
8 or 9 CDs and DVDs not in their respective covers
3 blankets of various sizes 2 of which the cats have used as a litter box since their litter box is overflowing
Additional cigarette butts and ashes all over the floor
Stains caused by who knows what covering various areas on the floor
And… Etc. Etc. more ashes and more butts.
Everything everywhere was covered in "ash dust" and very grey in nature.

I documented with photos in case he ever tries to dispute his slovenliness.

So, I got turned on the radio to the “alternative” station and started working. I won’t bore you with the contents of the computer room and the litter box. Let’s just say it hasn’t been emptied or cleaned out, or any litter added to it in at least a week or so. After he left I purchased a small one for the downstairs and have been emptying it every day and have had no problems. I worked from 8pm until 1am and all I got accomplished was “damage control.” I boxed up his CDs and DVDs and any other miscellaneous stuff and put it in the garage. He is coming on Monday to get his stuff and to take the cats for a while.

I can’t describe my emotional state right now. One minute I think we have a chance to work things out and he’ll grow up and be the responsible adult I need him to be and then I see how he treats our furniture, the carpet, and everything else and I think he’s just an irresponsible “child” and I don’t have it in me to wait as long as it would take him to become mature.

If I’m honest with myself I’ve known for at least a year and a half where we were headed but due to certain circumstances couldn't make the transition. I suppose I've been mourning the loss of the relationship for about two years now. At first the mourning was for the relationship I wanted but knew I could never have with him. Then I mourned the fact that even after I resigned myself to what he could offer and decided to accept what I had, it still wasn't working. Now, I’m numb. I don’t feel much of anything and I’m not sure how long that lasts.

An Apparent End to the Chaos

2005-10-27T10:47:00.000-04:00

Well, it’s official. I’m moving out as well. I’ve rented an apartment in an older and part of Charlotte where I’ll be much, much closer to work. I’ll be making the transition by Thanksgiving so I can take vacation the three days before and still have a whole week. My parents will be coming to help me make the move as well as get settled in. The Husband still doesn’t know I’ll be moving out yet. I told him four weeks wouldn’t be enough time to work through all of our problems but somehow, as always, he didn’t actually hear me.

I’m taking a step toward getting my life back. I’m taking a step toward regaining control of what has been nothing but progressively worse chaos for the last three years. I am tired of being second place in his life and he finally acknowledged he needs to make some major changes in his life. He finally contacted the IRS after being notified of two certified letters which he failed to pick up. He intends to pay about $100 a month; at that rate it will only take him 12 years to pay his back taxes. On the one hand, I love him. On the other, I WILL not continue to live with someone who has so little regard for how his actions are directly related to me and our life together.

Thought # 9038542

2005-10-26T14:06:00.000-04:00

The Husband is making a transitional move tonight. He intends to pack the air mattress, his guitars, and some clothes. I know this is for the best but I’ve never experienced anything that hurt like this

Will There Really be a Morning

2005-10-24T09:38:00.000-04:00

The husband and I discussed our separation last night. It was raw, painful, and very difficult. The hardest part of everything is that I still love him. I don’t love him in the way a wife should love a husband anymore but I still love, care, and want him to be happy.

I also need him to grow up. I need a responsible, adult partner in this roller-coaster life. I am tired, so very tired, of having to double check everything he does to make sure has covered all the bases and not dropped the ball. Last night we had one of the most honest discussions as we’ve ever had in our marriage. I think asking for a separation has finally been the wake-up call that I thought asking for counseling would have been.

I decided to just put what I am feeling out there and see what he his reaction would be. To be honest it was better than I had hoped for. Central issues in our marriage have been: his cigarette smoking, his pot smoking, his major, major mishandling of money, his family (Mom & Step-Dad, and Dad & Step-Mom), and his lack of responsibility manifesting itself by simply not living up his word. To put it simply, he has no follow through. He simply does not do what he says he will do whether it’s clean up the mess he made in the garage or not remembering to change the clothes in the washer to the dryer, thus mold and mildew smelling clothes that have to be re-washed.

What is so very hard about this relationship is he is not a “bad person.” He is wonderfully caring, and fun-loving. He is compassionate, with a heart the size of Alaska. He has an amazing work ethic and is always doing something at work to get ahead. Somehow, those wonderful qualities don’t translate to home and in so many ways he’s too much of a child.

I’m more his “mother” than wife and I cannot do this anymore. I need a life-partner in whom I have faith and trust. During the last 5 years I’ve long-since lost me and the definition of who I am. The values and ideals I once held so strongly to I’ve begun to question and the things I once thought were wrong don’t seem so wrong anymore. Due to the stress my health has deteriorated and I’m taking several medications for conditions I know I can get under control if I just get my life back. I cannot go on living under the amount of stress I am currently carrying. I’m also severely depressed. All the things which made me, well for lack of a better way of saying it, “me” have been disappearing little by little until I’m just a shell of my former self. I don’t like that.

I’ve been too-long living in the shadows of night and I’ve got to take my life back and find myself, and the light of day, again.

Belief

2005-10-10T11:07:00.000-04:00

I still believe in love. When the lights are out, when it’s dark and quiet, when all the artifice and façade has fallen away at the deepest part of me a small kernel of hope still exists. Secretly, I long to know and to be known—completely, to be truly intimate with another human being flawed though we may be. I wonder at the idea of such a connection.

Had we but world enough and time...

2005-10-07T13:31:00.000-04:00

I cannot listen to him talk about his life, his love, his family, and his wife. It’s not just him though. Really, it’s anyone to whom fortune has blessed. I’ll be 34 years old in less than a month. I don’t really feel my biological clock ticking it’s more of an understanding of life just passing me by. I never wanted to be where I am today. I never wanted to be in this situation. Yet here I am, commingling with depression feeling the air of sadness and loss of hope. I’ve lost a part of me and I don’t know if it is too far gone to ever get back.

I know my life is not at an end, the rational side of my brain tells me that. What I feel is something altogether different however. Who could ever love me now? Who would want all the baggage I’ve acquired these past few years. Will I ever be able to divest myself of these trappings?

He stands there, so happy. I see the love he has for his family. They have four children you know. He has brightly-colored childhood drawings displayed in his cube.

I wonder what I have done to have been denied these simple pleasures.